Magical Blues
by Random-Pixie123
Summary: A quick drabble in commemoration of 'Magical Beasts and Where to Find them'. Hogwarts AU. This fanfiction is not stored in crossovers as it does not contain any characters from canon Harry Potter. "Maybe it's 'coz you're a Hufflepuff. It makes sense that the lamest person in the school would be sorted into the lamest house."


**Don't mind me, just long drabbling. **

**This story is just short-term relief from a bad case of writers block. Since J.K Rowling has announced she will be making a new movie titled 'Magical Beasts and Where to Find them' (and I'm SUPER, SUPER excited) I decided to write something short as a commemoration. This is for any Sket Dance/Harry Potter fans out there.**

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A sharp pain erupted from his right shoulder, and wincing, he glared up at his best friend from his position at his Great hall table, far from happy to be interrupted from his conversation. She towered above him, grinning from ear to ear, red and gold scarf draped lazily around her neck and shifting as she rolled the frayed ends between her fingers. She chuckled.

Bossun knew (from unfortunately gained experience) that Himeko's method of greeting was far more violent than ordinary, muggle and wizard alike. A quick punch was nothing he was incapable of handling, but he still made a big show of it, rolling his shoulder back dramatically and groaning, clutching it tightly.

"Don't be such a drama queen." She said as she flopped down next to him and snatched a square of toast from his plate. The twin-tailed girl seated girl opposite the pair froze, mouth still open, the remains of her unfinished conversation hanging from her lips, before she muttered a hurried excuse and, grapping her bag, fled the room.

Bossun huffed and dropped his head into his hands. "Why would you do that?" he grumbled, glancing across at Himeko. "She was a Ravenclaw. Do you know how often Ravenclaws talk to me?...Never!"

Himeko took another bite from his toast and chewed on it contemplatively, jaw slow against the crust. "Maybe it's 'coz you're a Hufflepuff." She said, flicking at his yellow tie with her index finger, "It makes sense that the lamest person in the school would be sorted into the lamest house."

Bossun gawked in outrage, before slamming his palms down on the table, fork rattling against the dark wood. "Hufflepuffs are not lame! We can be just as cool as Gryffindors. Why does everyone thing we're lame? I don't understand!"

She smiled at him, biting the inside of her cheek, "As I said, s'probably because you're in the house."

"Shut up!"

Himeko released a burst of laughter and rocked back on the bench, using her sleeve to wipe at her eyes. Bossun's angry splutters only started off another round of giggles and she held the edge of the table tightly, heavy breaths dissipating into hiccups.

"I hate you." He snapped and slouched onto the table. It seemed the longer he knew the perky Gryffindor, the more arrogant, brash and insufferable she got. She had seemed a quiet docile soul when he bumped into her on the Hogwarts express, even after she accidently spilled her lunch over his uniform, causing her to gasp loudly and fuss over the state of his soiled robes, her cheeks flushing a dark shade of pink. He had brushed it off lightly and, smiling at her, tried to ignore the feeling of juice running under his trousers and down his legs.

"No, you don't." After being separated into different houses, their short friendship had come to an abrupt stop. Their rooms were on different sides of the school, they had different common rooms, sat at different tables... All through the first few years, they only saw each other for a short period of time in Charms class every Tuesday and Friday, but even then, they were both too absorbed in the lesson to take much notice of each other.

It was only when they started forth year and were paired for a project in defence against the dark arts that they really started to talk again. And talk they did.

She ruffled his hair with her left hand, fingers carding through his tangled locks, and stood, bench shrieking against the floor. A large leather satchel was slung over her shoulder, metal buckles rattling loudly, and she smiled down and him.

"You're still coming to my Quidditch game tonight, right?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, momentarily contemplating which member of his house would be angriest when he showed clad in a red jumper and cheered on the opposing team, and replied quietly.

"'Wouldn't miss it for the world."


End file.
